the hateful creatures!" ejaculated another girl of different opinions. "I would not dance a step with one of them; but if I did, I should be saying to myself all the time: very soon my fine fellow, some brave man in homespun blue will kill you." "If I was Maria," said another, "and had a British officer for my servant, I would coax him to tell me what General Clinton was going to do; and then I would send word to General Washington." "O, you mean girl!" answered Maria, "would you be a spy?" "Yes, I would." "And so would I!" "And I!" "And I!" "And I!" And then an equal chorus of "What a shame! Just like Whigs!" Maria missed these encounters. She saw that her grandmother usually deprecated political conversation, and that her uncle and grandfather did not include her in the discussion of any public event. On the fourth day she began to feel herself of less importance than she approved; and then there followed naturally the demoralizing luxury of self-pity: "Because I am a girl, and a very young girl, no one appears to think I have common sense. I am as loyal to the King as any one. I wish grandmother would speak out. I believe she is a Whig. Uncle Neil said he would take me to some entertainments; he has not done so. I am not tired--that is just an excuse--I want to go out and I want to see Agnes. I will not give up Agnes--no one, no one shall make me--she is part of my heart! No, I will not give up Agnes; her father may be a saddler--and a Methodist--I am above noticing such things. I will love who I like--about my friends I will not yield an inch--I will not!" She was busy tatting to this quite unnecessary tirade of protestations and her grandmother noticed the passionate jerk of the shuttle emphasizing her thoughts. "What is vexing you, dearie?" she asked. "Oh, I am wretched about Agnes," she answered. "I am afraid grandfather has been rude in some way." "You needna be afraid on that ground, Maria; your grandfather is never rude where women are concerned.""But he is unkind. If he was not, there could be no objections to my calling on Agnes."

"Is it not her place to call on you? She is at home--born and bred in New York--you are a stranger here. She is older than you are; she seems to have assumed some kind of care or oversight----."

"She has been my guardian angel."

"Then I think she ought to be looking after a desolate bairn like you; one would think you had neither kith nor kin near you, Maria." Madame spoke with an air of offense or injury, and as the words were uttered, the door was softly moved inward, and Agnes Bradley entered.

She courtesied to Madame, and then stretched out her 

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